Chrysalis

I’m waiting to turn into me
In this chrysalis of nightmares
And ephemeral dreams
I don’t know what I look like yet
Maybe a sinner, maybe a saint
But my wings won’t form
No matter how hard I try
I’m the shape of water, poured
From crystal to floor
Splashing formless and mutable
That tiny cascade of bubbles and drops
I found God in a cereal bowl, and
She told me to wait
Wait while I took that shape that is mine
I’m waiting to turn into me
To rise from slumber as some new being
Not as Gregor, but as something more
Beautiful, than I could ever dream

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